26-12-2018, 10:36 PM
Desiring Another Man's Wife Ch. 06
For days after that first meeting with Victor, Jen cursed herself for being so easily manipulated. My god, here she was, happily married, with Michael just in the other room, and she exposes herself to a stranger, and lets him fondle and finger her. Where was her good sense?
What was it about Victor? Why had she given in so easily to him? She knew she was attractive, and guys still hit on her, even now after being married. She had never had problems fending off those guys, or been tempted by any of them. Why had she let Victor get so far?
The thought of Victor made her tingle. He had almost made her cum. She felt indignant at Victor's nerve, and angry at herself for her weakness. But also disappointment, because he pulled away before she climaxed? Feeling guilty, Jen shook her head to get the thought out of her mind. She wanted to be a faithful wife, and wanting another man to finger her to orgasm was just as bad as sleeping with him.
Michael wanted to go to the next club mixer, and he gave her money to buy a new outfit. "You're so wonderful for going to these mixers with me," he had told her. "Here's some money -- why don't you treat yourself to a new outfit?"
Jen dreaded the thought of another club mixer, and the possibility of seeing Victor again. But networking at the club was important for Michael's job, so she reluctantly went to the mall to buy a new outfit. She browsed through the party dresses with the plunging necklines, and the skirts that were way too short. She knew Michael would love it if she wore sexy clothes like that. He was constantly encouraging her to dress sexier, but it just wasn't her. Growing up with two older brothers, she had always been a little tom-boyish, and felt more comfortable in jeans than dresses. She had never needed to dress sexy to attract guys. With her pretty face, silky blonde hair, and toned, athletic body, she never lacked for suitors.
Victor's words echoed in her head. "I want you to wear shorter skirts and higher heels." Remembering Victor's words made her shudder. He was so confident, so commanding, unlike any man she had ever known. Impulsively, Jen quickly picked out a turtleneck, mini-skirt and high heels, and hurriedly paid for them before she lost her nerve.
At home and feeling nervous, Jen tried on the new outfit. The clingy turtleneck molded itself around her breasts, and the tight mini-skirt ended around mid-thigh. She hadn't worn anything so short since her high college cheerleader outfit. The high heels weren't that high -- only about 2 or 3 inches-- but they were the highest she had ever worn, and she had to practice for over 30 minutes to walk without stumbling.
She looked in the mirror again, and considered what jewelry she'd wear. Maybe the long pearl necklace Michael had given her as a wedding present. She imagined how pleased Victor would be when he saw the string of pearls dangling between her perky breasts.
Then, suddenly, she felt like crying, as the realization of what she was doing hit her like a physical blow. She had picked out the sexy outfit with Victor in mind, not her husband. Now she was picking out jewelry to please Victor, and she was even thinking of wearing the pearls Michael had given her on their wedding day. She sat on the edge of the bed, her guilt overwhelming. "What am I doing?" she asked herself.
Her eyes fell to her long legs. When she sat, the tight skirt hiked higher up her thighs so it fell just inches below her pussy. She had lost her summer tan, so her legs had returned to their natural smooth white tone. Despite her guilty feelings, Jen imagined how Victor's dark black hand would look against her white skin. She imagined Victor's hand on her knee, and moving up her thigh, moving under her skirt. She remembered how it felt when Victor cupped her pussy, his insistent fingers edging around her panties and entering her.
Jen scooted up to lay on the bed. She covered her face with her hands. "What am I doing?" she asked herself again. Then, after long guilty moments, she gave into her body's urges, reaching down to pull up her new skirt, and then inserting her hand down her panties. "Oh god," she moaned as she rubbed her clit. With her other hand she squeezed her breasts, and with her eyes clenched shut, she fantasized about Victor fingering and fondling her.
On Saturday, Jen pulled out a black dress to wear to the mixer. She wasn't going to give into Victor's demands. The new outfit was hidden in her closet. She planned to wear that for Michael sometime, when they went out alone.
After putting on her dress and pantyhose, Jen stepped into her low heel pumps. She looked into the mirror and sighed. She remembered how fashionable all the girls dressed at the club. She went back into her closet and pulled out the new high heels, and slipped them on. She looked in the mirror, and noticed how the high stilettos made her legs look even longer and shapelier. The dress buttoned up the front. She hesitated, then impulsively unbuttoned three of the lower buttons to reveal more of her legs, and then hurried out of the bedroom before losing her nerve.
"You look lovely," Victor said admiringly an hour later as he held Jen's chair, his eyes on her legs. Jen smiled reluctantly at the compliment, not entirely happy at the prospect of dining with Victor and Monique. They had little choice but to share a table with the couple, given how welcoming they had been as she and Michael had entered the club.
Jen did her best to hold down her skirt but, like any dress, it hiked up her legs as she sat. "Very nice," Victor said approvingly over Jen's shoulder. He bent over so his lips almost touched her ear. "I don't think I've ever seen legs so shapely and alluring." Jen blushed and looked away.
"Are those new heels?" Victor asked after sitting down. "You're so kind, to wear them for me."
Jen flushed. "You think so much of yourself," she said sharply, hoping Victor wouldn't notice her redden cheeks. "Yes, for your information, they are new, but I bought them to wear for my husband."
"Okay, okay," Victor said laughing, holding up his hands in mock surrender. Then his tone turned serious. "Next time I see you, I want you wearing a shorter skirt." His stare turned harder. "But not before then."
Jen looked indignant. "I'll wear what my husband wants me to wear, when he wants me to wear it," she said angrily.
Victor laughed again, but it was a cruel laugh. "Is that right? He likes you to wear dresses that do their best to hide your charms? I suppose that's why he pays so much attention to Monique."
Jen frowned as she looked at Michael and Monique. They were talking to each other, their heads close, completely oblivious to the rest of the world.
As if reading her mind, Victor smiled. "Don't mind them. The purpose of the club is to socialize, to form bonds and friendships. For example, take those two men over there," Victor gestured to the adjacent table. "Mark and Greg. I'm certain they'd love to get to know you better."
Jen glanced to her right, and saw two well dressed guys looking at her. They were older, in their thirties, and looked like brokers or attorneys. They sat across from their chatting, pleasantly plump wives. The guys were checking her out, spending a lot of time looking up and down her body.
Jen looked away quickly. She couldn't believe they were leering at her with their wives sitting so near. Victor leaned closer. Jen shuddered as she felt his hot breath tickle her neck.
"You see, you're forming a new friendship with Mark and Greg," he whispered into her ear. "Now you need to bond with them. Cross your legs, and as you do, allow your dress to ride up your thighs."
Jen looked disbelieving at Victor. "You can't be serious."
Victor smiled, but his eyes were intent and humorless. "Do as I say," he said in a low but commanding voice.
Jen hesitated. But once again, she felt caught in Victor's spell, mesmerized, her will melting under this intense gaze. As if in a dream, she slowly crossed her legs. With Victor's command echoing in her head, she didn't try to stop her skirt as it parted where she had unbuttoned it, falling away to exposed her to mid-thigh.
For days after that first meeting with Victor, Jen cursed herself for being so easily manipulated. My god, here she was, happily married, with Michael just in the other room, and she exposes herself to a stranger, and lets him fondle and finger her. Where was her good sense?
What was it about Victor? Why had she given in so easily to him? She knew she was attractive, and guys still hit on her, even now after being married. She had never had problems fending off those guys, or been tempted by any of them. Why had she let Victor get so far?
The thought of Victor made her tingle. He had almost made her cum. She felt indignant at Victor's nerve, and angry at herself for her weakness. But also disappointment, because he pulled away before she climaxed? Feeling guilty, Jen shook her head to get the thought out of her mind. She wanted to be a faithful wife, and wanting another man to finger her to orgasm was just as bad as sleeping with him.
Michael wanted to go to the next club mixer, and he gave her money to buy a new outfit. "You're so wonderful for going to these mixers with me," he had told her. "Here's some money -- why don't you treat yourself to a new outfit?"
Jen dreaded the thought of another club mixer, and the possibility of seeing Victor again. But networking at the club was important for Michael's job, so she reluctantly went to the mall to buy a new outfit. She browsed through the party dresses with the plunging necklines, and the skirts that were way too short. She knew Michael would love it if she wore sexy clothes like that. He was constantly encouraging her to dress sexier, but it just wasn't her. Growing up with two older brothers, she had always been a little tom-boyish, and felt more comfortable in jeans than dresses. She had never needed to dress sexy to attract guys. With her pretty face, silky blonde hair, and toned, athletic body, she never lacked for suitors.
Victor's words echoed in her head. "I want you to wear shorter skirts and higher heels." Remembering Victor's words made her shudder. He was so confident, so commanding, unlike any man she had ever known. Impulsively, Jen quickly picked out a turtleneck, mini-skirt and high heels, and hurriedly paid for them before she lost her nerve.
At home and feeling nervous, Jen tried on the new outfit. The clingy turtleneck molded itself around her breasts, and the tight mini-skirt ended around mid-thigh. She hadn't worn anything so short since her high college cheerleader outfit. The high heels weren't that high -- only about 2 or 3 inches-- but they were the highest she had ever worn, and she had to practice for over 30 minutes to walk without stumbling.
She looked in the mirror again, and considered what jewelry she'd wear. Maybe the long pearl necklace Michael had given her as a wedding present. She imagined how pleased Victor would be when he saw the string of pearls dangling between her perky breasts.
Then, suddenly, she felt like crying, as the realization of what she was doing hit her like a physical blow. She had picked out the sexy outfit with Victor in mind, not her husband. Now she was picking out jewelry to please Victor, and she was even thinking of wearing the pearls Michael had given her on their wedding day. She sat on the edge of the bed, her guilt overwhelming. "What am I doing?" she asked herself.
Her eyes fell to her long legs. When she sat, the tight skirt hiked higher up her thighs so it fell just inches below her pussy. She had lost her summer tan, so her legs had returned to their natural smooth white tone. Despite her guilty feelings, Jen imagined how Victor's dark black hand would look against her white skin. She imagined Victor's hand on her knee, and moving up her thigh, moving under her skirt. She remembered how it felt when Victor cupped her pussy, his insistent fingers edging around her panties and entering her.
Jen scooted up to lay on the bed. She covered her face with her hands. "What am I doing?" she asked herself again. Then, after long guilty moments, she gave into her body's urges, reaching down to pull up her new skirt, and then inserting her hand down her panties. "Oh god," she moaned as she rubbed her clit. With her other hand she squeezed her breasts, and with her eyes clenched shut, she fantasized about Victor fingering and fondling her.
On Saturday, Jen pulled out a black dress to wear to the mixer. She wasn't going to give into Victor's demands. The new outfit was hidden in her closet. She planned to wear that for Michael sometime, when they went out alone.
After putting on her dress and pantyhose, Jen stepped into her low heel pumps. She looked into the mirror and sighed. She remembered how fashionable all the girls dressed at the club. She went back into her closet and pulled out the new high heels, and slipped them on. She looked in the mirror, and noticed how the high stilettos made her legs look even longer and shapelier. The dress buttoned up the front. She hesitated, then impulsively unbuttoned three of the lower buttons to reveal more of her legs, and then hurried out of the bedroom before losing her nerve.
"You look lovely," Victor said admiringly an hour later as he held Jen's chair, his eyes on her legs. Jen smiled reluctantly at the compliment, not entirely happy at the prospect of dining with Victor and Monique. They had little choice but to share a table with the couple, given how welcoming they had been as she and Michael had entered the club.
Jen did her best to hold down her skirt but, like any dress, it hiked up her legs as she sat. "Very nice," Victor said approvingly over Jen's shoulder. He bent over so his lips almost touched her ear. "I don't think I've ever seen legs so shapely and alluring." Jen blushed and looked away.
"Are those new heels?" Victor asked after sitting down. "You're so kind, to wear them for me."
Jen flushed. "You think so much of yourself," she said sharply, hoping Victor wouldn't notice her redden cheeks. "Yes, for your information, they are new, but I bought them to wear for my husband."
"Okay, okay," Victor said laughing, holding up his hands in mock surrender. Then his tone turned serious. "Next time I see you, I want you wearing a shorter skirt." His stare turned harder. "But not before then."
Jen looked indignant. "I'll wear what my husband wants me to wear, when he wants me to wear it," she said angrily.
Victor laughed again, but it was a cruel laugh. "Is that right? He likes you to wear dresses that do their best to hide your charms? I suppose that's why he pays so much attention to Monique."
Jen frowned as she looked at Michael and Monique. They were talking to each other, their heads close, completely oblivious to the rest of the world.
As if reading her mind, Victor smiled. "Don't mind them. The purpose of the club is to socialize, to form bonds and friendships. For example, take those two men over there," Victor gestured to the adjacent table. "Mark and Greg. I'm certain they'd love to get to know you better."
Jen glanced to her right, and saw two well dressed guys looking at her. They were older, in their thirties, and looked like brokers or attorneys. They sat across from their chatting, pleasantly plump wives. The guys were checking her out, spending a lot of time looking up and down her body.
Jen looked away quickly. She couldn't believe they were leering at her with their wives sitting so near. Victor leaned closer. Jen shuddered as she felt his hot breath tickle her neck.
"You see, you're forming a new friendship with Mark and Greg," he whispered into her ear. "Now you need to bond with them. Cross your legs, and as you do, allow your dress to ride up your thighs."
Jen looked disbelieving at Victor. "You can't be serious."
Victor smiled, but his eyes were intent and humorless. "Do as I say," he said in a low but commanding voice.
Jen hesitated. But once again, she felt caught in Victor's spell, mesmerized, her will melting under this intense gaze. As if in a dream, she slowly crossed her legs. With Victor's command echoing in her head, she didn't try to stop her skirt as it parted where she had unbuttoned it, falling away to exposed her to mid-thigh.
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